Tag Archives: inspiration

Deception. The Adversary Hatches.

The egg cracks, and a forked tongue flicks into the night air.  Fragments of the shell, thick and dark, fall into the moldy soil below.  A tiny serpent, grotesque and deformed, oozes out of the broken mess, one long and writhing body, two heads.

In a room high above the nest, a woman sleeps.  The castle walls are too smooth for the serpent’s slick belly, but the vining ivy proves a perfect pathway to her window.  The double-headed snake slithers its way along the vines and over the window sill, down the heavy curtain, across the floor, and up into the bed beneath the coverlet at her feet.  It pauses a moment, basking in the warmth of legs covered in filmy white silk.

The brains of the tiny snake, vague and primitive, see thoughts in images, and something like firelight plays through its consciousness.  The tongues flicker, and it continues on, following the warmth of her body, leaving the covering of her sheets, and,  finding her head covered in shining curls, it slithers into her ear.  She stirs, but sleep is sweet.

It more thinks the lies than speaks them, and the woman hears its thoughts louder than her own dreams. And, so deep it goes, hiding itself inside her head, that she believes its thoughts are her own.

Each head sends a different message, one of fear and one of pride, and it feasts on the confusion it breeds. The woman holds her head in her hands and cries tears of indecision.  

Her soul opens to Deception.  The little beast settles in, and without waking, she gives it a home.

***

Every good story needs a terrible villain.  Lady the Fearless?  She battles lies.  Fear and pride.  Dream stealers.  They come in when we believe deceptions about who we are, when we dozily accept any thought that wanders through our minds.  Too bad the sleeping maiden left that window wide open.  Too bad she doesn’t put up much of a fight.

If she would jerk herself awake and slap that little two-headed snake, it would fly across the room and crack its tiny skulls.  And the maiden?  She would find herself that much closer to Lady the Fearless.

So many things in this story could be different.  What if someone were on snake patrol, getting the eggs before they could ever hatch?  What if the castle had a more conscientious gardener?

The window could be guarded.  There could be snake traps in the bedroom.  The little maiden could jump up, throwing back the blankets, kicking like a ninja!   She could protect her ears before she slept, some barrier the lying creature could never breach.

What lies do you need to slap, right across the room today?  What barriers could you put in place against lies?  What fears are trying to take you down, infiltrate your thinking, and steal your dreams with thoughts of failure and risk?  What prideful nonsense is invading?

Every healthy person I know deals with lies and fear and pride; it’s an ongoing matter of what we accept and how proactive we are, how often we go on snake patrol, take inventory.  How sleepy are we when lies try to creep in?   Because they are sneaky, and we do love our slumber.

We have got to get control of ourselves, for heavens sake, and give the little beasties a slap.

I’ll share some of my strategies for slapping fear out of my head in the next post, but would you share some of yours in the comments?  What does courage look like for you in those moments of choice, those moments when you could choose to believe a lie or step out on truth?

Lady the Fearless. What a Character.

“Lady the Fearless.”  People are starting to call me by her name, and I’m happy to answer for her, though I have not arrived.

Sometimes, the minute I conquer one fear, another one seems to take its place.

I’m learning.

Lady the Fearless is not really me.  Or, maybe better, she’s not only me.  Lady the Fearless is an essence, a zeitgeist.  She’s a character.

And, what a character.  She is every woman or girl in fiction or in truth who ever fought any battle.  She is courage.  She is grit and joy and abundant life.

I want to know her well.  What she looks like, what her bravery  requires, how she’s punished for it, and how she inspires.

I’m hoping that her bravery, like fear, is contagious, and I’m praying for an epidemic–bravery in the air, in our lungs, pumping in our veins.

I look at the next generation of young women and men coming up, the teens, the young 20s, and I’m blown away by their beauty and their depth.

The glossy viciousness of the world they are growing up in, the world we are all growing up in, is stunning.  But, the one thing I will not do for them or us, is fear.  I choose hope.  I’m putting my trust in the bigger thing at play, the greater thing happening as we run into a fierce world, and it sharpens us into warriors.

It is a dark and stormy night.  

Lady the Fearless steps to the edge of the cliff and lifts the heavy helmet from her head.  She holds it out to collect the rain coming down in sheets.

 She brings it to her mouth like a goblet and drinks.  

“Lightning water.”  She sighs and smiles down at the full moon reflected in the river in the canyon below.  

She is not afraid of death or of the battle raging in the darkness; she will ride into it on her white horse like she has done before.  She will fly planes into it.  She will carry children into it.  She will show them how it’s done.  

She will shine.

 

On Vikings, Horses, and Ladies Done with Waiting.

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I told a friend the name of my new blog.  He looked confused and said, “Why aren’t you calling it ‘The Fearless Lady?'”

I sighed.

“It’s just, I don’t know, forgettable.  Everyday.   And, it sounds like a housekeeping website.”

He nodded and  said, “Oh, I get it.  You’re right.  And,” he gestured, “‘Lady the Fearless.’  That’s, like, yeah, that’s your Viking name.”

My Viking name.  Exactly.  Lady the Fearless.  The Valkyrie on her thundering steed, flying double fisted on a winged horse through this world of kids and dishes and work and life.  Susan of Narnia shooting straight arrows from a homemade bow in leather cuffs and a metal dress.   Alice, waltzing through Wonderland, unashamed and curious, taking no prisoners, dreaming and believing every impossible thing.

And, really, every day?  I don’t usually feel exactly like any of that.

But, I hold those images of Vikings and flying horses and arrows and Wonderland close, as reminders that we are part of another realm and the war taking place in it.

I am often struck by the intensity of the battle we face.  The battle to live this life and to live it well.

And I want to live it well.  I am so done with fear.

Fear says that nothing will ever be good enough.  Fear tells us to stay low, stay quiet, stay small.  Fear laughs in our faces and tells us to never hope or dream or wish.

I am done with fear running my life, telling me just to wait, wait for a better time, a better chance, a better me.  Telling me what chances to take–none.  No chances, never.

Fighting fear may well be the one battle at the root of all the battles we fight.  Even Eve was afraid that God was holding out on her when she bit into that apple, afraid that she was missing out on something good.

This blog is a journey into saying “goodbye” to fear and “hello” to true love and abundant life.  A habit of calling myself by a Viking name, calling myself “Fearless” as a reminder and not as a boast.  Because we need to be reminded of who we are.  We need to be reminded of the battle.  We need reminders of what we can be if we stop waiting and get in the fight.

I think we are all tired of fear, and I think we are all ready for something better.

I think we are ready for a journey to Fearless.

What’s your Viking name?  What words or images help you stay inspired and reminded of the higher calling on your life?  Reminders like this will be a running theme here at Lady the Fearless, so you have time to think about it if you want to comment at a later date.  But if you know it now, please share in the comments below!  You have something to share that will help others.  I know you do, because God put it there.